67. Sixty Four
Sixty Four
Cecil
They’re all dead. I’ve yet to see the bodies, but I would bet anything on the fact.
The storm was my first clue, and the stillness that followed.
Deep in the catacombs, I could feel it. Her power charged the air, shook the ground.
We took out the dozen men that slunk around underground; the rest either fleeing or meeting their demise at Eden’s hand.
I have no idea how she was able to do it, but it came with a price.
Her fingers are ice, the flesh of my neck at risk of frostbite as she clings to me. Swirls of pink and red cover her, like she’d been drowning in a pool of blood. And her eyes appear different, not as metallic. The silver has faded into a light grey, losing that otherworldly glint.
And her cries… they’re different, somehow. Lighter, truer.
My injured hand screams in protest as I hold her to me. “It’s okay,” I rasp, letting my eyes close. Sylvie and the few others that survived flank us, awaiting direction. Now, it’s a matter of salvaging what we can. Who we can.
I only allow a minute before I’m pulling back to meet her eyes.
“Have you seen Creed?” I ask, glancing behind her and searching the desolate fields.
A hush falls, the air takes pause. When I search her face, I almost wish for that vacant stare. A non-answer. But there’s so much sorrow—too much. And it’s only confirming the nightmare I’ve fought my whole life to avoid.
“Eden?” I press, pushing her damp locks from her face. My fingers grip the back of her skull, tightening with mounting panic. “Where’s Creed?”
She takes an unsteady step away from me, and my arms drop to my sides. Her eyes don’t stray from my own, the regret lying within them giving me the answer that she won’t. That she can’t.
“I’ll take you to him.”
We bury my brother in the blue, beneath the sun, with a golden chain adorning his neck.
Once I saw him, rain soaked and surrounded by death, I knew that his resting place had to be the antithesis of that.
A part of me is left there, in that field. The field where I crumbled, screaming at the sky and begging the Fates for a bargain of my own. There was no answering call, no whispers of possibility or even an acknowledgment of my pain.
It was simple—an ordinary demise. And that made it all the more painful.
I sat there until dusk, cradling my brother’s face in my hands and murmuring all the things I swore I’d tell him someday. I laid myself bare; confessing shortcomings and insecurities, all the ways I envy him, all the things I admire and love most about him.
Eden stayed, as did the others. No one moved, or spoke. They sat with me in suffering.
I’d never believed in an afterlife, but in that moment, I did, if only to give myself an ounce of hope.
Is it wrong to believe in something only when it serves you?
It was Sylvie who finally approached me, lowering to her knees beside my brother’s body and pressing a hand to his cheek. His body had grown stiff long ago. It didn’t phase her.
“It’s time to go, Cecil. We shouldn’t stay here,” she’d said. “It’s too…” Her voice had broken off then, and a sob got stuck in her throat. “It’s too cold here. Let’s take him somewhere warm. Okay?”
The world itself mourned. The temperature dropped to an unseasonable temperature, and the summer sun didn’t dare make an appearance. It was as if we were stuck in purgatory. Time ceased. The air was still, lacking life.
There is no life without him.
With my brother in my arms, I left the Sanctuary for the last time, not allowing anyone else to bear the weight of my heartbreak.
We’d gone straight to the ocean, Eden and I. The others went back to camp, many of which were in the throes of their own mourning. Only six of us survived, but we’d brought down Curran, so some might think it was worth it. Before, I would’ve said any sacrifice was worth the greater good.
It didn’t feel that way now.
“He asked me if I was afraid,” Eden signs beside me, pulling me from the bitter memories. It’s the first she’s said since… Since.
The sun shines down on us, hip to hip on the sand. We’re both haggard, desperately needing rest. But somewhere out there, in the tide, being pulled further and further out, is the other half of me. I can’t leave yet.
My lips part, but no sound comes out. It takes a moment for me to unwind my fingers from the fists at my sides.
“What did you tell him?”
Eden brings her knees to her chest, resting her temple against them and watching me. She nods once, and a single tear rolls from the corner of her eye. It’s as clear and glittering as the rolling waves.
Biting at the inside of my cheek, I look back to the water. The skies are the perfect shade of blue, melting into the ocean endlessly. It’s unfair that he can’t witness it. A part of me wants to slink back into the cold, dreary abyss and stay there.
Isn’t that what I deserve?
“But he wasn’t.” There’s a sureness to her declaration that tips me over the cliffside.
The muscles in my body contract, my chest too small for the beating of my heart. I slip my palms over my face. Tears leak between the cracks of my fingers, my breath warm against my face as I struggle to stifle sobs.
The pain is too much to comprehend, too permanent, and I don’t know how I could ever feel a semblance of happiness again.
Not when he can’t.
“It’s my fault,” I choke out, the words tumbling like an avalanche. “I told him that I would always protect him.” Dropping my hands, I give Eden an imploring look, my face contorted in anguish. Desperation.
I need the blame. I need someone else to feel as angry with me as I do with myself.
“What was the point of any of this without him?” Halfway through, the words lose their force, coming out as no more than a whimper. “What’s the point?”
Eden rises to her knees, shuffling in the sand until the two of us are face to face, our tears marking twin paths down our cheeks.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t know.”